The Return of Samhain
by Ormandria
Summary: Sometimes the thought isn't all that counts. A little magic and a lot of misplaced trust bring about disasterious after effects. WARNING: Rated T for character death don't worry, its an OC. ONESHOT. Please R&R!


_**Disclaimers:** I do not own Ghostbusters or the character of Samhain. I do however own rights to drawing (done via PhotoShop) of my new and improved look for Samhain. The pic can be found at __http/ img167. imageshack.us/img167/4301/ samhainnewxp7. jpg__ without the spaces. I also own rights to Joseph and Jacob._

_**A/N:** This is a ONE-SHOT. It is meant merely as a vessel to bring back Samhain, should I, or someone else want to write a GB fic with him in it, later on down the line. I only ask that if you do decide to piggy back this one-shot, please let me know. I will allow the use of Jacob for this purpose, but ONLY if you let me know you are doing it. I like to know where my characters are at all times._

_Thanks to Ghostbusters HQ for inspiring this little side-jaunt for me._

**_Ormandria (aka SayerSong)_**

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The brooch sat, dusty and dingy in the antique shop. It had been years since anyone had seen fit to own it, let alone actually wear it. The gold had faded under a thin layer of blackened corrosives, making it difficult to tell that the piece was of obvious value. Even the blood red ruby that sat squarely in the round circle of gold found itself crusted in old hairspray and make-up, so that it gave no glimmer or glint in the light of the shop.

Still, Joseph Price knew fine goods when he saw them, and this was definitely a fine piece. With some gentle care and lovingness, it would not be hard at all to bring forth it's true worth. He gently lifted the brooch up, turned it over in his hand and smiled as he noted the cost listed on the small tag attached. It was a mere fifteen dollars. Fifteen dollars for something that, once cleaned, would be worth at least five-hundred. That is, if the corrosion had not degraded the gold underneath. That was something he wouldn't know until he got it home.

He took it up to the counter, laid down a twenty for the cashier, who rang up the sale, and turned to leave.

"Sir, your change?" the cashier called after him.

"You keep it," Joseph smiled. "This little beauty will bring me all the change I need." He pocketed the brooch and left the shop.

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Several hours later, Joseph Price put the finishing touches on the brooch. He had been right in his estimations. It had not been difficult to clean and luckily, the gold had remained untouched by all the chemicals it had been exposed to. Had it been silver, it surely would have tarnished beyond repair. Gold, however, did not tarnish, which was a plus. It was still a miracle though that it could sit so long, in the shape it had been in, without actually corroding the precious metal to some degree.

He looked at his newfound treasure with pride. The gold now shone so brightly that it might well glow in the dark, and the deep, dark ruby was absolutely flawless with a type of inner light that one would expect from only the most precious of gems.

He gently laid the brooch down upon the black cloak that adorned his table. He stepped back and looked the table over, nodding in satisfaction. Everything was in order.

The cloak, the color of the darkest pitch, with a high stiff collar, took up most of the space. Set inside the collar was a Jack-O-Lantern, its face grinning in pleasure and its eyes cut in bright amusement. The candle he had placed inside earlier had yet to be lit. As did the several black mass candles that surrounded the scene. An athame stood at the ready, as did a small cauldron of salted, blessed water and a cone of sandlewood incense. He had already place his ritualistic markings all around the room, and on the table. All he needed to do now was to wait for the right time.

He hated to part with such a fine work of craftsmanship, but he knew that in order for his plan to work, he needed to give up something of immense value or risk the anger of the creature he was about to summon, and thus risk losing his life. Since he had a particular fondness for his life, it seemed only sensible to part with the brooch.

Joseph looked up at the clock. His grandson, Jacob Windemare, would be here in half an hour for his overnight visit. After dinner, Joseph would have the boy wait in the dining room while he performed the ceremony. It had broken Joseph's heart when his daughter Lily had told him that Jacob, a boy of twelve, no longer believed in Santa Claus, The Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy or any other supernatural or spectral being, and as such had decided he was also simply too old to celebrate Halloween anymore.

Halloween had always been one of Joseph's favorite holidays as a child, and it simply didn't seem right that a child should turn away from it. So naturally Joseph had been ecstatic when he had come across an old book during one of his antique rummages through an old bookstore, that had a spell for summoning the spirit of Halloween, Samhain.

All Joseph had to do was summon the spirit, gifted with the brooch and cloak, and ask it to instill the spirit of the holiday back into his grandson by showing the child that it did, in fact, exist. True, Halloween wasn't for a good month and a half yet, but that would leave Jacob plenty of time to find a costume. His grandfather didn't want to cut it too close.

All in all, the plan was as absolutely flawless as the ruby within the brooch….

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"Are you done then?" Joseph asked his grandson.

"Yup," Jacob replied, swiping a stray brown hair from his eyes. His hair had overgrown over his summer holiday and would need a good cutting now that school had started once again. "Can I play some x-box now?"

"Acutally, I was wanting you to stay in here for a little bit. I have a surprise for you in the living room and I need to finish getting it ready," the old man smiled.

"A surprise?" Jacob's eyes lit up at the mention of a surprise. His grandfather always managed to get him the coolest stuff, both old and new. In fact, Jacob had made many a friend just by showing off some obscure antique or relic that his grandfather had acquired through the years and passed onto him. "What is it?"

"You'll find out soon enough. Just wait here and it will be ready in about twenty minutes. You can play one of your hand-held doohickeys in the meantime." Joseph slipped through the sliding doors to the darkened living room, making sure that Jacob could not see in as he did so.

Turning toward his make shift alter, he took a deep breath and focused. He had to do this just right or it wouldn't work. With steadied hand, he lit the mass candles in order, the incense next and the Jack-O-Lantern's final. Picking up the athame, he blessed it in the water and cast his circle. He then spoke the incantation that he had memorized days ago in preparation for this moment. He lifted the athame high above his head and pricked his finger so that blood dripped down upon the Jack-O-Lantern. When he was finished, he watched with baited breath for any sign that it had worked.

After several moments of nothing happening, he was almost ready to give up completely when the candle inside the Jack-O-Lantern gave out. A split second later it was enveloped with flame from within. So bright was the light within the Jack-O-Lantern that it almost bathed the room completely in it. The Jack-O-Lantern rose slowly from the table, along with the cloak and brooch. The cloak billowed in no-existent wind and filled out as it floated in the wind.

"Who summons the Spirit of Halloween?" The word echoed from the pumpkin-shaped head of the apparition.

"I, Joseph Price do, oh great spirit."

"Long have I been trapped, a prisoner of the Ghostbusters in an infernal hell. But your summons has released my mind and spirit from that world, though my physical being still resides there. You must truly believe in the Spirit of Halloween to have the power to perform such an act. Especially as I sense that the night of All Hallows is not yet upon this earth."

"I do!"

"Did you give me this new form then as well?" The voice sounded ancient, as though each individual word drifted through the continence of space and time over a million years to get to this one spot in the here and now.

"Yes, I did. I have a favor to ask of you, oh Great One."

"A favor?" The hovering Jack-O-Lantern, though it had not moved once since it began to float, seemed to pause and contemplate this development. "Very well, you may ask me one favor, for the service you have done me this night. If it is within my power I shall grant it. But know this, my power lies in the belief of those around me. The closer it is to All Hallow's, the more my power grows, for the more people believe in me. Your belief is powerful, but some wishes may, as of yet, still not be granted."

"Oh, I am sure you can grant this one, oh Powerful One," Joseph grinned with joy. He pointed the spectre toward the sliding doors behind him. When he felt that the spirit had taken the sight in, he continued. "In that room is my grandson, a mere child of twelve. He has given up his belief in Halloween. All I ask is that you let him see you and revive his belief in you and Halloween."

The spirit chuckled. Joseph couldn't quite be sure, but the grin on the Jack-O-Lantern appeared to widen and the eyes no longer seemed to hold the joyful merriment that he had carved into them earlier.

_'A trick of the mind,'_ he thought to himself. After all, this was the Spirit of Halloween he was talking to. It should look a little eerie and unnerving. He just hadn't expected it to look quite so … malevolent.

"I agree," the spectre said. "Bring me the boy."

Joseph nodded and eagerly ran for the door. "Jacob, you can come in now."

He opened the doors wide, letting his grandson in. Jacob stared in awe at the scene before him. "Wow, grandpa! How did you do this?" He walked over to the spirit and looked around, trying to find the wires and electrical cords.

"I am real child. Come around so that I might look upon your face." Jacob stood up, his heart going cold at the sound of the voice. He knew of nothing that could cause a voice to sound like that. It scared him. He walked back around to the front anyway, unable to stop himself.

The cloak moved and suddenly part of it separated into an arm, from which a decaying, almost skeletal hand reached out and grabbed the boys face. Fear welled up in Joseph as he suddenly lunged forward. This was not what was supposed to happen.

"What are you doing?" he cried. He was too late. The spectre turned a baleful look upon the old man, and Joseph was suddenly enveloped in flames.

"You have done your work old man. I am eternally grateful, but I now that I am free, no one will stop me." The Jack-O-Lantern's face caved in, leaving nothing but a black void from which one could see to red eyes, glowing like coals in the dark, spectral flames through a skeletal like opening for the nose, and a wide grin of brilliantly white, and deadly sharpened teeth with fangs.

Once done, the spirit turned evilly to the child, it still held in its clasped hand. It lowered its head and inhaled deeply as a bluish/grayish fog drifted from Jacob's mouth, nose and eyes. When he finished, he pulled back and let go of the boy, whose eyes were now a pale gray.

"Who am I?" the spectre asked.

"Samhain," the boy answered distantly. "Lord of All Hallow's Night. My master."

"Good," Samhain nodded. "With you at my side, I will bring more children into my fold. With each child, I will grow stronger, and as I grow stronger, the day when every day is All Hallow's will be closer as well. No longer will I need to stop time to bring permanent Halloween to the world. I will bring Halloween to the rest of the year."

His hand resting on the boy's shoulder, he led him out, stepping almost gingerly over the charred corpse of Joseph Price.


End file.
